


What to expect when you're expecting

by JLKnox



Series: How Brio could actually work... [2]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Between the Scenes, Brio - Freeform, Canon Compliant, F/M, Internal Monologue, Season 3, back from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23093059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JLKnox/pseuds/JLKnox
Summary: Rio's got a lot on his mind as he sees Elizabeth for the first time after the shooting. Even though they planned it, it's hard to get over being shot -- and she didn't entirely stick to the plan then, or afterwards.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Series: How Brio could actually work... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657150
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	What to expect when you're expecting

Leavin Rhea’s house, I feel my jaw clench an I make myself relax my fists. Boss Bitch think that even in death I wouldn’t set my family up? Marcus get everythin if I go an you be sure I got several different ways for him to get what I got. Rhea gonta be able to take care of him til he can take care a her. She thinks he need hand-me-down cleats?

But then she take mortgage money from my babymomma?! After bein all high n mighty?

The FUCK.

I make sure Rhea know what’s up – not about Elizabeth, but about Boss Bitch – an she jus bout angry as I am. At least I know she good at freezin folks out…wasn’t til Marcus asked bout his Daddy that she even let me see him. She ain’t gonna like havin someone like BB near her bebe boy. Hell, she barely puts up wif me.

I have to consciously pry my fingers open an put em on the wheel a my new Hummer. I drive this like a asshole an someone likely get hurt. Turnin the key, I think bout what’s next.

\---

Next time I drop off Marcus, Rhea on the phone, rollin her eyes but not sayin anythin. I fold my arms an raise an eyebrow. She delete a voicemail an hang up, seein my face.

“Her again. Says she’s worried about me? Like I couldn’t live before she showed me what soccer was? Please – our people been playin football since before hers even had a word for ‘feet’.” Can’t help grinnin as she make a scoff noise from deep in her throat. She so damn smart…almost like she needed more room for brains so she keep em in her chest.

Damn. Guess I do have a type.

“Wait a bit. Call her back. Let her invite you out.”

“You’re telling me what to do now? Since when has that ever worked?”

“I’m askin. Nicely. You ain’t have to go.”

“Mmm-hmmm…I see. You gonna go in my place? Somewhere you know her kids won’t be?” She look me up an down, top to tail. “You think I don’t know your type? You forget, Mario Christopher, I _am_ your type.”

“Yeah, maaa, y’are. But I got bizness wit Ms. Boland. I just ain’t want her to see me comin.” I tilt my head down an look up – it nearly always works. “Help me out?”

Blowin her breath up through her hair, she throw her hands up an say, “Fine”.

“Thanks, ma, text me when an where.”

Ain’t nobody surprised when the bar – our bar – show up on my message screen later.

I take my sweet time gettin ready: shower extra hot, extra long; choose the exact right shade of black shirt; pick out some new rings. I wear the same coat from the day when she took me home…when we matched. I think the entire time.

Dags tole her I was “K”, but do she want me to be dead – zat why she help Rhea?

She the king now? Or think she is? I dug round some but ain’t find any big moves …not since I let Turner clean house.

What she gonna see, when she see me?

What do I wan her to see?

I pull up out back an sit there a minnit. I been so caught up in seein her I almost forget what she did while I was gone – how she disrespected me an my family. For that matter, I dunno who all in there – an aside from a half-dozen guys on my crew who were in on the plan, all a Detroit think she shoot t’kill. No matter what, while we in there, I can’t be anyone but Rio – I can’t do anythin but hate her.

Like the first night we banged, I eject the mag from my glock and stash it in the armrest. Check the chamber an pop out the bullet. I may need a show a force, but I ain’t gonna let my anger do somethin I regret later.

I head through the employee door, greet my buddy the bartender who ain’t seen me in months. We do a bro hug-clap an he pour me somethin good. Smooth with jus a lil heat; rich an caramel. I lookit the label an remember it so I can pick up a bottle. It deserves to be appreciated, but I down it too fast an look at the door to the main floor.

“She’s here.” I look up at my guy.

“Whozzat?”

“Dude, whatever. That MILF you been here with, left here with, an if I believe my ears, fucked in the ladies’ room.”

“Don believe everythin you think you hear, cuate.”

“Don make so much noise, pinche.”

I hold out my fist for a bump. “She at the bar?”

“In her usual spot.”

“Send us two a these, k?”

“De nada, gue.”

I roll my eyes at the whiteboy, tug at my shirt, smooth back my hair, breathe in and walk out. Quietly. Slowly. I wait til she look at her phone again, an slide up beside her.

“Awwww, she ain’t comin.”

She freeze like a rabbit in a road – tharn, they call it – no muscle movin at all.

I ain’t know how to take that.

She surprised? Relieved? Afraid? All of the above?

Until that second, I donneven know how I was gonna react seein her. When she act scared, it piss me off. I remember what I tole myself in the car, bout half a Detroit spectin me t’get revenge.

Maybe I should.

“Yeahhhh…we both know how this ends.”

Maybe she’ll warm up. Maybe she’ll think I mean it end in bed. Maybe I do. Do I?

I take her in. Two months a long time to be in a hotel room, alone. Her face terrified when all I want is to see her look how I feel. Want her to be relieved, make it okay for me to wanna see her again.

Her hair blonder now, but her skin still porcelain perfect. Goddamn her tetas look better than I remember; possibly bigger? Those big eyes usually look at me like they innocent and not at the same time. Now they dart around, afraid. Her plump lips in a tight line. Her chest heaves as she draw in a deep breath to hold the horror back.

“So whassup? How you been?” I put a lil meanin behind this next one. “Kids good?”

I’d never hurt her kids, but the way she actin right now, jus makin me more an more angry. She ain’t meltin wit relief; she tremblin like Imma kill her.

Jury still out. I can still save this.

“You know my boy says Jane is like the superstar forward on the team. You think they gonna make the finals this year or what?”

Maybe it’s mean, actin normal like we havin a conversation when she clearly think imma kill her; an I clearly am undecided what to do bout this. The more afraid she react, tho, the easier it is to be scary.

I bust into a fake laugh, throw my hand up like I jus remember somethin.

“Oh! I gotta show you somethin.”

I pull the bullets out one by one.

“Lung,” I kiss it, cuz that the one that almost kill me.

“Spleen,” I click it on the table next to the kissed one.

“Shoulder.” Lt.Dan left it in first thing, but after a day it looked infected so he went back in. Was a motherfucker, but came out an sepsis lost that battle.

I nod at my boy who finally shows up with the bourbons. Put on a straight face and hold up my drink.

“To your aim.”

I actually mean it – Elizabeth come through for me there – but I can’t keep the anger out my voice. Guess I fuckin hate bein shot an then missin someone for eight weeks an then bein greeted like I’m persona non grata. Not sure why she think Imma retaliate – but it’s makin me wanna.

Fuck it. Lean in, right?

“Bottoms up! You got a lot to celebrate. You met a beautiful family. Helped out your community an whatnot. Hell, I bet they name a wing after you at your kids’ school.”

She finally has the grace to look uncomfortable. Yeah, you better. I’m still burnt she try to treat my boy like a charity case.

Without sayin nothin, she slide outta her chair. A puff of air wafts over from her an I can smell her – fear, perfume, an jus a lil lust. All I know is I ain’t ready for her to leave, an my hand already on her elbow, stronger than she spected.

“Don’t…do…that.”

I keep the anger out of my voice, but for once I pronounce my T’s, making the ends of those words sharp. Her eyes get wider as I squeeze her arm harder.

“It just puts off what’s gonna come anyway. An then you gotta wait for it…an trust me, that’s…” I can’t help it, I laugh. It sound kinda bitter. Simultaneously I’m picturin fuckin her an killin her. Like the two pictures overlay each other, not like I screw a corpse. “That’s just way worse.” 

This whole time an I still ain’t know which one I want more. She sit back down an I ease off her elbow.

I just wanted her to be glad to see me; glad I was alive. Seein this – it’s like bein gored by a boar – an surprising no one, that kinda rejection make me lash out. I breathe out, slow. I want her to know what even I don’t: how t'feel in this fucked-up situation.

I try again. Calm.

“Check it out.” I make my voice soft, reassuring, caressing her ear the way I used to her hair. “You my girl,” she breathe out, but she still scared. Still. “So Imma take it easy on you.” I move her hair out her face, but the angle is weird, can’t use my pinky. Can’t make her relax. “I’ll do it myself.”

Sex? Death? Both? Neither? Fuck. Gimme somethin, Elizabeth. But her nostrils flair an she sure Imma kill her.

“Let’s get this over with,” I stand. Whatever Imma do to her, it ain’t gonna be inside this bar. She gotta come with me. “Whadya say?”

My stomach drop an everythin click into place – the fear, the horror, the indecision. The tetas. It all make sense when she say, “I’m pregnant.”

Only thing happen outwards is my jaw clench. Too damn hard.

I wanna pick her up an twirl her round, laughin.

I wanna twist her arm til she tell me it ain’t D-bag’s baby.

I wanna scream at her for not tellin me sooner – gettin a message somehow.

I wanna cup the side of her face, kiss those big, scared eyes an tell her ain’t nothin gonna happen to that baby.

I wanna put my hand on her belly an say hello to my son.

I can’t control my feelins so my voice is tight an controlled as I say, “Outside. Now.”

I toss too much money on the bar, twist my finger in her belt loop at the side of her waist an put my other hand on the back of her neck. It look like we a couple, my arms round her, but she ain’t goin nowhere. I can’t maneuver her up into the hummer this way, so I hiss, “Mommavan. Now.”

She gestures an clicks the keyfob so it beep an I know where it is. Round the corner, down a side street bout half a block.

“Unlock the trunk.” She click again an I hear it unlatch but it don’t swing open. I kick my foot under the bumper at the hands-free sensor, then take the keys from her. All the seats are in so I keep my finger in her beltloop an growl, “fold ‘em down.” She struggle a bit but eventually the last row disappears into the floor. I nudge her in an follow, pullin the hatch down behind me.

Glad I emptied my piece cuz I honestly ain’t know what I’d do. She gotsta talk, tho.

I wipe my hand over my face. She on her knees lookin at me.

“This… _this_ how you tell me?”

She still scared, her eyes movin round, not lookin at me.

I still ain’t know my head from my ass but I can’t help a grin pullin at the edge of my mouth. A laugh, a real laugh, bursts out.

“You… you aren’t _mad_?” The confusion on her face fights with the fear.

“Ma… I dunno what I am.” I set my jaw and make my face hard, starin daggers at her again, pissed she let it happen, pissed she ain’t tell me. Pissed that even if I wanna kill her, I can’t now. That decision been made for me.

“But…but you’re not going to kill me.”

“I don’t kill kids.” Everything else aside, them’s facts.

She lets out a slow breath. Her body less tense but her face still scared.

“Is…” I don wanna ask this cuz I got no idea what I do if the answer is no. If the kid is her doughboy dumbass dork husband’s. If it only took 6 weeks for her to start fuckin him again after shootin me. That’d be the fuckin crime. I feel myself gettin angrier an I stop myself.

She see the question in my mind and she look straight at me, makin eye contact for only the second time that night. It’s all I need; she tellin me the answer. She ain’t fuckin that loser, not when she knew I’d live.

I lean forward, grab under her knees. First trimester, I can still have her. I pull her legs toward me, one on each side a my hips. Look at all of her like I could have two months of having her all in one night. I look at her, question on my face, but her expression too hard to read.

“Aw, momma…ya gotta know I want you.” I unwrap her with my eyes an move my hand under her sweater. She breathes out a stuttering breath. “Two months in a hotel witout you…” I slide my thumb under her waistband, stretchin my fingers up higher. She looks a lil panicked, so I move it back on top her clothes. “Eight weeks.” I move my face close to hers. “Sixty-one days.”

She move in, hesitating, for the kiss. She timid, so I stay gentle even though reptile brain wanna shred every fiber coverin her body. This my girl; she has my baby; Imma claim it; Imma protect it. I say it out loud. “Imma claim this kid. Imma protect it.” I lean my hips into hers so she can feel how much I want it – her – everything. “It mine. _You_ mine.” Her soft groan is almost too soft to hear.

I move my hands to her back, still above her shirt. I change it to a question, “You mine?” I feel her nod under me but it ain’t enough. I was raised better.

“You know I need it, Elizabeth…” I do slide my hand under her shirt back now, and lay my face on her chest. “Gimme your _enthusiastic_ consent.” I kiss my way up her neckline, to her ear an whisper again, “You mine?”

She press her face against mine an I lick her jaw. She whimpers, but it ain’t sexy. She tug on my shoulders an look in my eyes. Still seem like she a lil afraid. Also seem like maybe that fear is turnin her on.

She lift her hips off the ground and grind against me but she still ain’t answered my question…still ain’t given consent. I lay my head on her chest, restin on those huge pillows, listen to her heart beatin too fast to be good fer her. After a long time, she start talkin.

“You scared me tonight,” she say, “I didn’t know if you were gonna fuck me or kill me.”

“I dinnint, either,” I say, “but it was cuz I saw you was scared of me.” I look at her for a moment an let her see what it would mean to me if she chose to go. Worse, if she thought I would hurt her. An then I look away, because although the decision’s made for me now, I still gotta do somethin to prove to my crew I ain’t weak.

She leans forward a lil an I kiss her again, this time as hungry as I wanna be. Her hands go to my belt an I unzip her while we devour each other’s lips. I haven’t gone this long celibate since we got together.

But one thing hit me an I freeze, my face get hard again.

“I thought you was tied up.” I gesture at her lower midsection.

“Sometimes they untie.”

I nod, biting my lip. I heard that a thing. But she gettin up there – innit sposed to get more difficult? Then again, she got four already…

It piss me off that I ain’t believe her. It’s infuriatin that she flip on me so many times I know better than t’trust her. I put my weight on my arm an shift to the side.

“You even glad I’m alive? Or you jus gonna tell D-bag it his?”

There. The fear back on her face, full-force. I move over so my weight ain’t pinnin her down; so she can get up, out of the car if she want.

“Uh..of course. I mean, of course I’m glad. I – I didn’t know what I was going to tell Dean. It’s so early, I hadn’t made a decision. And…I mean, it’s happened before. And I’m older now.”

“Happened before?! You…?” my moms raised me Catholic but also to respect that not everyone was Catholic. A few girls a mine prolly aborted, but wit so many littles…it don’t seem like her thing.

“Miscarried. I’ve miscarried before.” I can tell from her face, from the way the memory flicker over her an the way she fight it back that it was awful. I reach up, touch her cheek. “So I thought I had time. Time to see if I killed you or not. Time to figure out if it’s what I want. I mean…if you were dead…and if it looked like you…or if it would make it...” She full on panicked now, face bleached white an expressionless. 

“Shhhh…ma…you got nuthin t’worry bout now. I gotchu.” I hold her waist, look at her face but she starin straight ahead, froze. “Til you decide – I gotchu.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for hits and kudos and feedback, so I learned from last time that I should post my chapters as separate works in a series. [if you want to subscribe, I recommend doing so at the "series" level] Let me know what you think, especially if it will help me improve!


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